


A Meeting

by spowell Count Dracula series (SPowell)



Series: Count Dracula [39]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Chastity Belt, F/F, F/M, M/M, Mind Control, Multi, Vampires, Voyeurism, Whipping, blood-sucking, dark!fic, dub-con, enema, enslavement, evil!Merln, non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 09:14:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3062279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SPowell/pseuds/spowell%20Count%20Dracula%20series
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur is punished by Dracula. Dracula prepares Arthur.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Meeting

Arthur hung against the cold stone wall, legs and arms spread, the crack of the whip sharp in his ears. His body ached, past real pain at this point. He knew he was lucky not to be doubled over in the contraption Leander had suggested—the Count drew the line there. Leander’s dungeon was a torturer’s paradise—twenty times more frightening as the one in Dracula’s Castle.

Dracula himself wielded the whip--it had to be that way, Arthur knew—as several of the older family members witnessed. Early on, before the pain became excruciating, Arthur was cognizant enough to notice that Cezar did not seem pleased by the proceedings, and did not watch it with the hungry eyes that Bogdan and especially Leander did.

Arthur loathed Leander with his entire being. The vampire was jealous of Arthur, Arthur was sure, and he would stop at nothing to give Arthur pain. And pain Arthur got, for the fifty lashes of the whip seemed to go on forever, and try as Arthur did not to cry out, he could not help it. He saw that Leander kept his hand on his crotch the entire time, stroking softly, and when Arthur would groan or whimper with pain, Leander would close his eyes and clutch at himself.

In spite of his torture, Arthur could feel Dracula’s emotional turmoil throughout the ordeal---it seemed to physically hurt him to hurt Arthur, something that had not previously been the case. A fine sheen of sweat developed on the Count’s brow with every swing of the whip until the collar of his shirt was soaked and his hair curled and dripping.

“Whip his balls,” Leander suggested, and Dracula growled. For a moment Arthur was certain Dracula would turn the whip on his cousin, but he kept on with the task at hand, Cezar counting out the stripes—stripes that Arthur felt sure Dracula was being very careful not to overlap in consideration of Arthur’s pain.

When it was finally done, Leander (of course) suggested that Arthur hang there for a time, but the Count ignored his cousin and immediately freed Arthur from his chains, catching him as he fell forward, unable to stand on his weak legs.

Before it all began, Dracula had announced to the group that his mate was being punished for being secretive and withholding important information from him. Throughout the whipping, Arthur could think of nothing but getting through the horrific pain. It wasn’t until he had been bathed and put to bed by the Count’s own gentle hands that his fevered mind could wander enough to ponder what it might mean that the enemy vampire tribe bore his mother’s maiden name.

His mother had died of the scarlet fever when Arthur was almost seventeen. He remembered his father’s grief well. Shortly after that, Uther Pendragon had succumbed to the illness. By that time, Arthur had been sent to stay with Gaius and Alice. Arthur knew next to nothing about his mother’s family. He’d never met any of them.

Arthur could not get comfortable. Mid-way through the whipping, he’d been turned, so that half the stripes would be deposited on his front as well as his back. They burned, despite the salve that Dracula had applied to them. Even so, when Arthur examined those on his chest, belly, and legs, he could already see the edges healing up.

Presently, Dracula brought Arthur a cold drink.

“Good, but not what I crave most,” Arthur said after taking a long sip. Dracula immediately slit his arm with his knife and offered it to Arthur, who latched onto it greedily, sucking in the thick, delicious blood of his mate while Dracula moaned in pleasure.

“I did not like punishing you,” the Count said when they lay together after Arthur had had his fill.

“I know,” Arthur said.

“Things have changed.”

“Yes.”

“Tell me what you are thinking.”

“I am thinking that I despise Leander.”

The Count sighed, fingers running through Arthur’s hair. “If he was not my cousin and so powerful in his own right, I would’ve killed him by now for speaking to you the way he does.” He paused for a moment. “You know I had to do it, A Mea.”

“I know.” Arthur turned his head away, baring his neck. “Drink.”

Dracula bent forward, licked a stripe down the tendon of Arthur’s neck and back up again, teasing him. Arthur took one of the Count’s hands and placed it on his cock, which was filling rapidly. Dracula groaned and sank his teeth in, simultaneously squeezing Arthur’s cock, and Arthur cried out, arching his back in pleasure.

The euphoria that followed helped ease his pain, and by the time they were ready to sleep, Arthur’s wounds were almost healed.

The following evening, Arthur awoke to a pleasant fullness in his arse. The Count pressed kisses to Arthur’s ear and temple before beginning to pump shallowly into him, one hand running over Arthur’s waist, hip, and leg.

Arthur gripped the sheets, his erection sticking out from his body like an arrow, Dracula’s chest pressed to Arthur’s back so that Arthur could feel his lover’s heart beating.

“Dracula?” The voice cut into Arthur’s pleasure fog. He tensed, but Dracula only adjusted Arthur’s leg over Dracula’s hip and continued his leisurely thrusting. The voice was Cezar’s. They were hidden by the emerald curtains of the bed, but Arthur was well aware that the sheets were pooled at their feet leaving their nude bodies completely exposed should Cezar open the curtains. After all Arthur had experienced, he was a bit surprised that the thought of this could still embarrass him.

“What is it, Cezar?” Dracula asked, his voice making it obvious what they were doing behind the curtain. “I am going to have the servants put bells on our bed so that we are not interrupted.”

“Sorry to intrude, but there has been a development.”

Dracula seemed to be nearing completion, and Arthur was close behind, balls drawing close to his body.

“Tell me,” Dracula said tightly, warm breath falling in Arthur’s ear. His cock ran over Arthur’s prostate, and Arthur groaned.

“The head of the de Bois tribe wants to meet with you. They have named a place.”

Dracula stiffened, seed pouring into Arthur’s body at the same time that he reached forward and tore open the curtains. Arthur found himself looking at Cezar, whose eyes immediately drug over Arthur’s body, stopping at the rigid cock that pointed straight at him.

Dracula eased out of Arthur, and Arthur fell onto his back.

“You will accompany me,” Dracula said to Cezar, fingers encircling Arthur’s cock and tugging, making Arthur moan, toes curling into the mattress. “We will also take Gwaine.”

Cezar nodded, watching Dracula expertly milk Arthur’s orgasm from him, pearly pools of white spilling over Dracula’s hand. Dracula brought his fingers to his lips and delicately sucked each one clean before leaning down to kiss Arthur.

“Excuse me, my Love, while we make firm our plans.” Dracula whispered to Arthur before getting up from the bed.

***

Later, when Dracula returned, Arthur had just finished bathing and was preparing to dress.

“Wait just a moment, my Dove,” Dracula said. “Get on the bed, arse up. Yes, like that.”

Arthur expected the welcome intrusion of his lover’s hard cock, but instead he received the cold tip of something foreign, followed by the odd feeling of warm liquid being pumped into him.

“What is it?” Arthur asked, holding his breath.

“Something to make you evacuate, my Love. It is necessary.” He squeezed another burst of warmth into Arthur’s body. “Shh…almost finished.”

After a moment, Dracula pushed down on Arthur’s back so he lay flat on the bed on his belly. Arthur’s bowels were full of the warm liquid, and it was an uncomfortable sensation.

“As you heard,” Dracula explained, taking a seat beside Arthur on the bed, “I will have to meet with the de Bois tribe. I do not know how long it will take, and since I do not trust my cousin, I am going to put a chastity belt on you. That is why I want you to evacuate your bowels now, so you will not have to do so while I am gone. I am leaving you a supply of my blood to drink. If that is all you partake, you should be fine.”

Arthur trembled at the thought of being belted, but more so at being left with Leander.

Dracula felt his unease. “I am leaving Percy to guard you, my Sweet. Do not fear.”

When Arthur felt he couldn’t hold the liquid anymore and began to squirm, the Count turned him over. “You must keep it in as long as possible. I will distract you.” With that, Dracula took Arthur’s cock into his mouth.

Arthur gasped, pulling his rectal muscles in to keep the liquid inside while pushing his hardening cock into Dracula’s hot mouth. Dracula sucked and licked, driving Arthur insane. It was difficult enough to keep his bowels from spilling without the wonderful sensation of having his cock sucked to deal with at the same time. He looked down at the Count’s head bobbing beneath Arthur’s belly, disturbingly distended with the contents of the enema, and gasped with pleasure.

Just as Arthur’s climax came on and he knew he would not be able to keep from spilling his bowels in an embarrassing torrent all over the bed, Dracula pressed something inside Arthur’s anus to keep him plugged. Arthur let go with a scream, ejaculating into the Count’s mouth and watching weakly as his lover swallowed every bit of it.

Then the Count helped Arthur off the bed to the chamber pot in the other room, removing the plug and leaving him there to thoroughly evacuate and to bathe after.

The chastity belt had soft leather that encircled Arthur’s waist in a V and clamped around his cock, keeping it soft. The device then dipped between Arthur’s legs, securing a plug in his anus before locking at the top and coming about lower at the hips and locking again so that it would be impossible to free either his cock or the plug without the key. The plug stabbing Arthur’s prostate coupled with the leather preventing him from hardening had the added effect of keeping Arthur in a constant state of arousal until Dracula’s return.

“This will keep you ready for me and Leander from your precious flower,” the Count said, and Arthur blushed at the term. Dracula particularly liked to call Arthur’s hole his “precious flower” while kissing and nipping at it with his teeth.

Dracula pressed a kiss to the piercing at Arthur’s cock head before straightening to stand before him.

“What would keep Leander from simply cutting the belt off?” Arthur asked.

“He could do so, but then I would have grounds to kill him,” Dracula answered, pulling his cloak around his shoulders.

“Must you leave today?” Arthur asked as he pulled on trousers and a shirt.

“I’m afraid so.” Dracula brought his hands up to Arthur’s face and kissed him softly “But I promise you that I will be back as soon as I can.”

He kissed Arthur again, longer and deeper this time, and Arthur followed Dracula down to the courtyard to watch him mount his stallion and ride away with Cezar and Gwaine beside him.

Arthur turned to find Leander’s narrowed eyes on him.

 

 


End file.
